Tuesday, 2 October 2012

A couple of guys over at YouTube have been reading my pasta and creating videos.

The Quantum Man

The Golden Dilemma

Inspired

This is really flattering, as this is just a hobby to me. What with one thing and another, I only started doing this because my girlfriend recommended I try my hand at writing. I initially tried writing reviews of the things I enjoy, but found more satisfaction when I stumbled across creepy pasta.

Many thanks for the feedback I've received from numerous people on different sites and in real life, and I will continue to write as long as I am ........inspired.

Thursday, 9 August 2012

These days, they say we are literally a couple of years away from a computer that can emulate the human brain. A device that can represent the entirety of thinking, and break it down to 1's and 0's. Perceiving the way humans thinks as being in this fashion will help you understand. The structure of thought can be view as the coding that comprises "us", and just like coding it can be manipulated.Through extensive research throughout the world, it's become known that certain vocal commands can actually overide the thought processes. The syllables are gibberish in any language, yet can render the target catatonic and open to suggestion. In the numerous tests, it was found that this state included an absolute abandonment of morals. Without question, fathers would willingly sacrifice sons, and life-long friends would turn against each other.Over time, it was realised that this command code exists in the minds of all humans. At first the scientists were confused, wondering how the entirety of the Earth had become afflicted by this. Eventually it was realised that the condition is hereditary. This made the concept all the more confusing. For it to have spread in this manner, it would have needed to be introduced whilst humanity was still climbing out of the Cradle of Life, in Africa. This was long before any form of organized society.For obvious reasons, information like this has been quashed at every oppurtunity. Can you imagine a world where every single person can make anyone within earshot a willing puppet? Life as we know it would fall apart overnight. Our lack of understanding prevent us from being able to remove this "control system", however through hypnosis we can establish when some has been used in this manner, but not how.This is the point when those researching this started to get scared. They found large amounts of evidence that people were being used on a regular basis. We don't even know who by, of it was the same individuals who implanted the original coding into our brains when we were still scratching images of buffalo into cave walls.It wan't until the indivudals were returned back to their original selves by repeating the syllables that outright fear set in. They would have no knowledge of what had happened, often expressing confusion and saying some variation of the same sentence.

"Hey, have you ever had that thing where you go into a room and you forget why you came in?"

Friday, 3 August 2012

I love creepy pastas. And chances are that if you are reading this so do you. I've been into them for about a year now and like most the community enjoy the sudden jolt a well-cooked piece of pasta can provide. The way a perception can be built up in a mere couple of sentences, then be violently smashed down. I've appreciated all the classics, from "Noend House" and "Candle Cove", to the secrets of the Holder series.

I heard about a group of guys recently that kept talking about wanting to take their pasta to the "next level". The kind of story that changes you as a person, gives you a new outlook on life. They posted on a forum, and the impression I got from lurking at the time was that they were building the story fragment by fragment. A mish-mash of text that was being amalgamated as much in the public eye as it was via personal message.

I do know that it was eventually finished, and that a grand unveiling was planned at midnight on the forum for atmospheric effect. This caused some minor grumbling as they all lived in different time zones, but GMT was eventually agreed upon. Many waited with bated breath for this alleged "perfect" pasta that had grown from the minds of many, yet were disappointed when there was no sign of activity from any of the original creative group.

A couple of days later, one of them signed onto the message board and left a brief message

Slendermanrulez89: uj3drjjde498blind8540j

You know exactly what we were thinking at that point? Publicity stunt. That's what we continued to say to ourselves over the coming weeks as more and more message started to pile up from all the authors. Most of them were nonsensical, a couple downright disturbing.

At this point we started to get a little worried. Weeks had passed since the supposed release date, and there was no sign other than these repeated postings of the forum, so we started to investigate further. Initial findings showed that the group had shared the story among themselves prior to the release, a couple of them bragging of the fact on various other forums. More details came to light showing that one of them, "RATMfanatic", had been the final editor stitching all the text together, then sending it out to all of them. Research of his facebook showed one status not long after.

"I can't focus anymore. my mind keeps being drawn back to it. I can see where I stand and it terrifies me."

All of the others showed had followed suit, and slowly but surely described a gradual descent into depression, mania and ramblings of "finally understanding". At this point all sorts of theories were flying around, all fixated on this story. We scoured the news reports and found that over the course of time we were able to tie missing persons reports up to all the forum members from throughout the world. Accounts were investigated showed that the homes they had left behind had been trashed. Their computers had all be destroyed, as if there had been some shared belief that burning or smashing the source of their fear would somehow alleviate it. There was no mention of the story, but to be honest we wouldn't have expected that. To this day we don't know where they are.

And you would believe that would be where the story would end, were it not for one final postscript. A message was found:

Voltronator: yeah, i just got it in my inbox, but I haven't read it yet.. Don't tell anyone, but I'm gonna fire a couple of copies to some friends. They've been begging me for this, and I do owe them one from way back. They are gonna be stoked.

No-one knows who he was referring to, and nothing has be heard of since. Who knows, maybe it's still out there. Floating on some dead site that gets like a hit a year. No-one knows the title, so your guess is as good as mine. The only thing I will say you is be careful out there. Next time you stumble across some pasta you've never tired before............. just.......... I don't know,I mean how would you even know until it's too late?

Thursday, 26 July 2012

At the end of the day, no matter how complacent you get about the world, it still has the capacity to shock you. Billions of people interacting on a a daily basis, all just trying to get on with their lives, and the worst of us will often drag the others down.

Understanding two concepts gives you a better perspective of this situation.

Firstly, decades ago a scientific theory was proposed for something called Orgone energy. This was, for want of a better word, a "bio-field" that permeated all life on the planet. Positive and negative emotions and actions would have an effect on the creatures around you, for humans often in a subconscious fashion. This would show that happiness breeds more happiness, but contempt also breeds more contempt. It was also established that the more base the emotion was, such as fear, the stronger of an effect it applied.Secondly is a much more mundane image. It is the principle of the Crab Bucket. This is where if a large number of crabs are placed into a bucket, the will fight and squirm around, desperately trying to escape. The notable part is that if one crab is able to elevate themselves, they will instantly be dragged back down by the others around them, making escape impossible.

By appreciating these two ideas, you start to gain an understanding of why it is that on some days the world seems too dark to tolerate.

Sartre had it almost right. Hell isn't other people, it's just having to live around them.

Tuesday, 24 July 2012

Over the centuries a legend has abounded, of a regiment of lost souls. They pool their numbers from the battlefield, recruiting those who have already fallen once in conflict. In the time after the blood-hot frenzy, when all there is is the moans of the dying , they will walk among the wounded.Their numbers are far higher than anyone has ever guessed, and the warriors present here come from all walks of life.

The Crusader clad proudly in Christian regalia, who was ambushed and cut down by bandits. Mere miles from a battle that would shape the world, he was cruelly denied his glory. Outnumbered, he had fought valiantly but was blindsided when a mere slip of man's blade found the space between his plate mail.

The Centurion who watched as thousands of Huns exploded out of the nearby tree-line to the fort. He was in charge of small security force left to keep the locals placated, but the numbers now streaming towards him were far higher than anything his men could deal with. His fingers tightened on his gladius as he prepared to take as many of the frenzied with him as possible.

The Samurai, killed whilst guarding his master in the midst of peasant revolt. Due to their hatred for any whom would defend the despot they had subjected him to the shame and horror watching his master die before the same fate was dealt to him.

The LAPD officer, gunned down whilst responding to a gang territorial dispute between two men who were barely old enough to be considered men. An innocent had already been killed, with several more injured. He was shifting in cover when suddenly more of one of the youth's friends had pulled up, and the officer found himself in the open and in the line of fire.

All these people, and many more, were visited by the regiment and in their final moments asked the question.

"Are you done fighting?"

Some, tired with the fighting and conflict, resign themselves to the afterlife happy to have earned a final rest. All the problems that plagued the world that seemed so important when alive are revealed to be an illusion of a far grander stage.

But the are others who look the regiment square in the eye and say

"No, I'm not done"

These stubborn few, representing just about every single group of organized forces from throughout the world will occasionally be seen in the midst of battle itself. They are called upon when one gives themselves over to the conflict, Mind, Body and Soul. When an individual is lost to the blood-lust and the fury, and they fight simply because that is all they know within their world.

At this point, the various members of the regiment will take up arms and join the battle, tethered to the real world by the red mist.Nordic Vikings, Russian Spies, Zulu Warriors all fighting shoulder to shoulder.

None know who it is that commands this diverse group, though some stress the more important question is for what reason such a group is being accumulated.

Sunday, 15 July 2012

Out in the Arizona desert, there was a child who has never seen a human face, nor heard a human voice. She resided not on the surface, but beneath it, contained within a bunker. The reason for her situation all came down to a singular issue.

The Existence of God.

One thing that is universally agreed upon by all faiths is that we are all born with an inherent awareness of God. The aim of this project was to demonstrate this by having a young girl, whom had never had any contact of any kind , formulate a concept of God separate from the rest of the world.

The project started innocently enough, with good intentions. Representatives from all the major faiths were present to witness the first potential proof of God. The child was a test-tube baby, screened for all potential genetic defects, and chosen specifically for the the fact it was average in every fashion. For the first years of her life she was brought up in a stark, sterile environment, with all orderlies around her wearing full-face masks to prevent any familiarity.

Her living space was approximately the size of a small one bedroom flat, with white walls throughout. There was no decoration, and minimalistic furniture purely for function. There was a television, however this was used to for her lessons

She was educated throughout the years, hungrily devouring the basics of English and Mathematics. Subjects beyond that were considered unnecessary, as the education was only provided as a means to communicate. Words such as "God", "Heaven" and "Hell" were pointedly excluded.

It was by her 12th birthday that results started to accumulate. It had been noted in previous weeks that she was starting to show some signs of mental imbalance, stemming from an English lesson that had enlightened her to the word "Name". She had never been given a name, merely referred to in darkened boardrooms as The Project. This seemed to distress her, as the labelling of words was a fixture in her mind, and with no point to fix herself upon she became confused and angry.

This escalated over the weeks, as she started to become more detached from reality, and on more than one occasion was heard to be engaging in conversations with herself. Whilst her living quarter were under full surveillance, complete with microphones in every room, the nature of this conversations eluded the scientists. She would mutter under her breath, often glaring at the myriad of cameras throughout.

Often it would become necessary to enter the space, to keep the area clean and to perform general maintenance.As a result, she would be rendered unconscious with gas, though the scientists would wait until she was lying in bed half asleep so as not to injure her. On this occasion, two masked technicians entered the room whilst she softly snored away, and set about repairing some minor damage to a table that was in her bedroom.Once finished they started to leave, when one hesitated for a second, stepping closer to the child. A father himself, it pained him to see such a detached individual. He went to touch her, just for a moment, when his partner roughly grabbed his shoulder.

"What are you playing at?"

He opened his mouth to reply, when the young girl exploded up from the bed in spasm, grabbed his hand and dragged herself up close to his face. The technician realised her eyes were rolled backed and her eyelids twitched as if in REM sleep.

"He has finally given me name. Would you like one?"

The technicians partner tried to dragged him away, as the child quickly whispered into his ear. Later, the partner would try to recall the words, but could not place as it seemed at one point two people were speaking. The technician had started to spasm and scrabbled at his ears in pain.

Guards hurriedly pull on their masks, then rushed into the room to drag the man out. As this occurred, the child sat on the bed cackling and crowing at the chaos she had inspired, and she continued to do so for hours after they had left. The man was taken for treatment, but found to be hopelessly insane. Before they could restrain him, he succeeded in tearing off one of his own ears and biting off his own tongue.Conjecture later suggested it was in a bid to prevent himself from ever hearing or repeating the terrible words he heard that day.

The man was dead within a week, though the cause was not clear. One thing of note was that his moment of death, the girl, whom was secluded away in the bunker and miles from his location, started to giggle. She stared up at one of the cameras and smiled.

"the tithe has now been satisfied."

When pressed on this statement in her lessons, she smirked, but refused to enlighten.

The previous events were gleaned from various documents and personal accounts. At this point these all stop. What is known is that that night there was a catastrophic event at the installation. Every person on duty was brutally massacred. The confusing aspect of this was that the perpetrator is not clear. As each of the technicians, scientists and guards on duty died, the child sat in the centre of her room reciting the Lord's Prayer in Aramaic.

Backwards.

Camera footage showed 117 men and women convulse and violently vomit blood until they collapsed from supposed blood loss. As the last victim died, the child rose to her feet and walked to the door of her entire universe since she was born. Wood charred and metal melted as a hole burned it's way through and she took her first steps into the wide world.

As she walked she seemed to caress the very air with her hands, and was clearly happy despite being surrounded by such visceral gore. As she made her way out of the bunker , nothing was an obstacle. Even the blood and bodies of the formerly so curious were swept aside, a veritable red sea parting before her. As she reached the exterior, she turned and faced one of the final cameras. She stared at it for a moment then spoke.

"You never told me what I was looking for. Who knows what I was going to find. My name is Eve, and i represent the eve of you all."

At this moment, the image from the camera flickered, and revealed a fully grown man with eyes as black as pitch, not wearing a scrap of clothing, with one hand on the girls shoulder. Despite looking malicious, it could not be denied that he stared at the girl with some aspect of paternal pride. Another flicker and he was gone.

The girl was last seen striding off into the desert as if with a clear goal in mind.

Her location is unknown.
Her abilities are unknown.
Her intentions are unknown.

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Eric stumbled across the desolate shopping precinct in the midday sun, taking regular swigs from a bottle of whisky he clutched. He wandered from window to window, glancing at random products, and occasionally smashing windows with a swift boot. Surprisingly, he didn't take anything and would then stagger to a new target, muttering darkly to himself.

He'd been living like this for what was getting on for 4 weeks, since the last of his family died. His wife had clung on for as long as possible, eventually succumbing in her sleep. A virus that had ravaged the planet had reduced her to a shell of her former self, whilst at the same time preying on his their two children.

The virus was designated P7W9, but became known as the Pale Flu, due to it's effect on the complexion of the afflicted. The body would experience general atrophy and flu-like symptoms that increased over the course of 24 hours, until the body just shuddered to a halt.

Eric's eyes filled with tears as he relived his wife final moments, spasming in her deathbed with him clutching her close, willing her to keep breathing. With her passing the last of his fight and will had boiled away, leaving a haggard gaunt figure who was systematically attempting to kill himself through alcohol.

He remembered feeling numb as he watched the rest of the populace die, one by one, until only he remained. The doctors at the local hospital that he had gone to, after realising that he may, in some way, be immune. He had watched them die, one after the other with confusion in their eyes as to why they had been struck down and he had not. The final dregs who had attempted to take vengeance on him for the fact that he was unmarked by the blight. He had lived on the run for three days, allowing the virus to take care of them until no-one survived.

He now lived in the local hotel, his own home having too many memories. He had barely been able to bury his family, and he had no wish to face that grief at this stage. Canned food and alcohol was abundant in the hotel, and as a result he had a coherent thought for what was close to a month.

He now meandered towards the local park, with no real destination in mind. As he walked, he finished off the last of the whisky, then threw the empty bottle through a convenient windshield. Walked on to the park grounds, suddenly aware of a bass throbbing sound that seem to permeate from all around him.

He walked further into the park and the sound became louder.The hairs on the back of his neck raised as he realised that the sound was increasing in intensity and that it was approaching him. He spun round suddenly spying, for want of a better word, a rocket ship descending from the sky. It was sleek, coated with a reflective material that gave the impression of no friction. It landed 100 meters from him, and within seconds several armoured individuals disembarked from the rear.

The suits they wore gave little away, and allowed no view of the occupants faces due to reflective domes that covered the entire head.. They walked strangely towards him, a gait that Eric was not familiar with. He realised with a start that this was due to their "knees" bending in the opposite direction. One stepped towards him and start to tap at a number of buttons on his wrist gauntlet.

A string of guttural tones came from the reflective helmet. Eric stared confused. A new set of noises comprising of clicks and whistles. another made up of what sounded like clapping. Suddenly he started to recognize one language. One or two of the words jumped out, and he realised that it was speaking French. His mind scrabbled for the word English.

"ANGLAIS!", he screamed, his eyes wide with the surrealness of the situation.

The creature tapped two more buttons

"-gutter beasts managed to create a language is beyond me. You! Are they all dead?"

The creature pointed at him to exclamate the word. Eric sank to his knees in shock

"Yes. They're all dead. I'm the only one. Why am I the only one?" He looked beseechingly at the creatures.

"Approximately one in a billion have a natural immunity to our bioagent"

Eric's mind spun with the word. Bioagent.

"The Pale Flu?"

The creature's tone became mocking

"Did giving it a passive name make it any less deadly? We needed your planet, more specifically the resources it holds. Oxygen. Nitrogen. Numerous metals. And you stupid bags of water and bone walking around as if you owned this rock. Why fight you for it when you make it so easy to just take it?"

Eric erupted with a scream and launched himself towards the being.

"YOU TOOK AWAY MY FAMILY!!"

Eric never saw the blow coming, but he was slapped aside like a nuisance. The blow to the face broke his nose, and the copper taste of blood filled his mouth. He started cry quietly.

Behind him, the creature unholstered a device that clearly only had one use, and pressed the muzzle to the back of Eric's head.

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About Me

Hi there, my name is Marc Tobit. This here is my attempt at writing. Unfortunately I have the attention span of a goldfish, so creepypasta is best suited to someone of my focus.
http://www.facebook.com/marc.tobit